


Harry Potter and the Perfect Night

by mikewytrykus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikewytrykus/pseuds/mikewytrykus
Summary: Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts and the downfall of Voldemort, Harry Potter makes preparations for a very special Valentine’s Day with the love of his life, Ginny Weasley.





	Harry Potter and the Perfect Night

It had been five years since the fall of Lord Voldemort, and all was relatively well in the wizarding world. It was a quieter time of rebuilding and reconstruction – a time for those that had survived the war to carve out a comfortable and meaningful life for themselves. Valentine’s Day was nearly upon us, and so the thoughts of many young wizards and witches turned to love and creating this new life together, hand in hand. One such wizard was Harry Potter, once known as the Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One. You see, Harry had been the wizard that had finally defeated Lord Voldemort for good, and he now looked forward to the days of peace and happiness ahead of him – days he hoped to share with the love of his life, Ginny Weasley.

Harry sat alone at a table in the Leaky Cauldron, casually perusing a copy of the Daily Prophet. It was here at this pub, many years ago, that Harry took his first steps into the wizarding world, accompanied by his friend, the half-giant wizard, Rubeus Hagrid. The Leaky Cauldron had long served as the entryway into Diagon Alley, a hidden area of London that was home to many a fine magical shop, store and eatery. The pub was very different now than it had been back then. It had recently come under new ownership, that of Harry’s old friend and classmate Neville Longbottom and his new wife, Hannah. They took over the establishment after the previous owner, the barman Harry knew only as Tom, had retired and moved to a warmer climate. The new owners took great care in remodeling the pub, making it into a somewhat more upscale establishment with a friendlier, more inviting atmosphere. It was now a popular place for wizards and witches to meet for lunch on their way into Diagon Alley before a long day of shopping.

“Neville and Hannah have really shined up this place, haven’t they?” Harry heard a familiar voice say. He put down his paper and looked up to see his best friend of many years Ron Weasley looking down at him.

“Yeah, I reckon they have,” replied Harry. “It’s good to see you, mate.” Ron pulled out the chair opposite Harry and sat down. “How’s Hermione?” asked Harry.

“She’s fine. Busy as she ever was though. Lots of work fighting for the rights of house elves and the like,” said Ron.

“We always knew that was one battle she would never give up on,” said Harry. “Give her another year, and she’ll be running the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“No kidding. Then she’ll be able to get those little blighters whatever she wants,” smirked Ron.

A bar maid approached Harry and Ron’s table. They ordered their lunch and continued chatting for several minutes, catching each other up on the minutiae of their busy lives. Although Harry and Ron both worked for the Auror department at the Ministry of Magic, they did not get to spend a lot of time together. Their hectic jobs gave them no chance to socialize while on the clock, and they did not meet outside of work as much as they would have liked. In fact, it had been almost two months – since the Christmas holiday – that Harry and Ron had sat down together for a meal, a far cry from their days at Hogwarts. But Harry had invited Ron to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron today for lunch for a very important reason. Harry had something he was planning to do, something he needed to tell Ron about first. It involved Harry’s girlfriend Ginny, who also happened to be Ron’s younger sister, and Harry felt he needed to tell Ron about it before it happened.

Harry had always felt a tad uneasy about his relationship with his best friend’s sister whenever Ron was present. It was an almost guilty feeling. Harry was not sure why, as he would never do anything to intentionally hurt Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley family did not instill these feelings in him. They all loved and adored Harry; they had long before he and Ginny were even dating. But Ron was his best friend and her very protective older brother. He had to be sure that Ron knew what Harry was planning and was okay with it. He owed him that much, after all they had been through together. Harry told Ron the reason he asked him to lunch today.

“Blimey Harry!” exclaimed Ron, smiling. “That is big news! Good news though.”

“So you’re alright with it then?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Of course, mate. Why wouldn’t I be?” Ron said reassuringly. “When are you planning to do it though?”

“Tomorrow night,” answered Harry, “on Valentine’s Day. I’ve got the whole evening planned out.”

Harry went on to explain to Ron the full extent of his plan. He was taking Ginny to a very fancy and exclusive wizarding restaurant. It was a place that required you to make reservations months in advance – even if you are the famous Harry Potter – and you could only arrive there by Portkey. They would have dinner, drink, music, and dancing. It would be a perfect romantic evening.

“And to make sure the whole night goes swimmingly, I placed an order for a vial of Felix Felicis with the apothecary in Diagon Alley,” continued Harry.

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you mate? You’re going to put me to shame, you know that? Hermione’s going to have all kinds of ideas once she hears about this,” said Ron with a hint of anxiety in his voice.

“Yeah, I imagine she will. But I’ve planned this night very carefully, for a long time. I want it to be perfect,” responded Harry.

“I’ll say you’ve been planning it a long time,” retorted Ron. “At least six months, if you’ve ordered Felix Felicis. It takes that long to brew, it’s not easy to make, and it doesn’t come cheap. I just can’t believe you’ve been planning this, in secret mind you, for six whole months.”

“Longer,” replied Harry as the bar maid returned with their food. “It’s taken me almost a year just to work up the courage to do this.”

“Courage? You?” inquired Ron. “You’re one of the most famous Gryffindors in Hogwarts history. You fought and killed the greatest dark wizard who ever lived. You’ve seen things that would give any sane person nightmares for the rest of their lives - ”

“So have you,” interjected Harry before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Who says I don’t still have nightmares, mate?” replied Ron with a grin. Ron took a long drink from his pumpkin juice. “But still, you’ve done more brave and heroic things than most people could ever imagine, and this is what scares you?”

“Well, um, yes,” said Harry matter-of-factly. “I reckon love might be my greatest strength and my greatest weakness.” Harry smiled and the two friends laughed a little as they shared their meal.

* * *

Harry emerged some time later from the rear exit of the Leaky Cauldron and proceeded through the chilly February air into Diagon Alley. He had several stops to make today in preparation for tomorrow’s big night out. His first stop was at the apothecary to pick up his order of Felix Felicis. The apothecary was far busier than Harry had ever seen it before, but he recalled that he had never been here so close to Valentine’s Day and thought perhaps many of the witches and wizards present were buying ingredients for love potions and the like.

He patiently waited for the wizard behind the counter to become free while he watched the patrons bustling about, examining many herbs, elixirs and other potion ingredients. When at last it was his turn, Harry eagerly approached the apothecary, who recognized him immediately.

“Mister Potter!” said the apothecary, a broad smile across his face. “How good to see you again. How can I be of service to you this fine afternoon?”

“I’m picking up an order I placed back in August,” responded Harry, “for a vial of Felix Felicis.”

The apothecary looked as if he suddenly recalled something he should not have forgotten. “Yes, of course,” the wizard said, “I remember that order. It’s funny too, because we do get a lot of orders for that particular potion to be picked up at this time of year.”

“Yeah,” Harry chortled, “imagine that.”

The apothecary disappeared through a door behind him into a storeroom and reappeared moments later clutching a small glass vile with a cork stopper in its mouth. The vile contained a shiny fluid that appeared as if it were liquid gold. Harry stared at it momentarily as it glistened in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the apothecary shop.

“Felix Felicis,” said the apothecary. “A very delightful yet tricky potion to brew. A few sips of this will make the drinker’s every endeavor yield success. For a short time, at least.”

“That’s the stuff,” remarked Harry. His eagerness was beginning to wane into impatience. Harry had other stops to make and did not wish to spend all day chatting with the apothecary about a potion that he was all too familiar with. He had used Felix Felicis during his sixth year at Hogwarts in his efforts to aide Professor Dumbledore in unlocking the secrets of Lord Voldemort.

“Have a big night planned tomorrow, do we Mr. Potter?” inquired the apothecary as he placed the vile of potion into a bag and handed it to Harry. “Hoping to, what’s the expression, ‘get lucky’?”

“That’s the idea,” said Harry as he took the bag from the apothecary and handed him a sizable amount of gold in return. His package in hand, Harry turned and exited the apothecary shop to continue his errands.

Harry’s next stop was at the wizarding bank Gringotts. When Harry had turned eleven, he had learned that his parents had left him a great inheritance that was being kept safe for him in a vault deep below the streets of London. In addition to gold and silver, he later discovered that this vault carried some of his parents’ most valued possessions and priceless family heirlooms that had resided there since their tragic deaths. It was once such particular heirloom that Harry was withdrawing from the vault today.

Upon entering the bank, Harry approached one of the goblin tellers. He eyed Harry with the same look of recognition that Harry had become accustomed to receiving from the witches and wizards he met. Though it had been many years since the fall of Voldemort, Harry was still well known in the wizarding community and, while it no longer caused him the pain it once had, Harry still bore the unmistakable lightning bolt scar upon his forehead.

Unlike the apothecary, the goblin was not interested in chitchat and instead conducted himself in a purely business-like manner. He sharply asked Harry what it was he required and Harry responded, handing him a picture of the item to be retrieved. The goblin confirmed Harry’s identity and then directed him to an area where he could wait while another goblin retrieved the item from his vault.

As Harry walked over to the waiting area, a wave of relief washed over him. He was glad he would not have to accompany the goblin down to the vault personally. He hated riding in the small mine cart, through the winding shafts of railway tracks that twisted and turned every which way. It was not at all Harry’s idea of fun and he had not experienced it since he, Ron and Hermione became the first wizards ever to successfully break into Gringotts and rob a vault. Now that he thought about it, Harry was surprised he was still allowed into Gringotts and wondered if his prior escapades where the reason behind him not going down into the cavernous vaults today.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by the arrival of the second goblin. He was carrying a small wooden box decorated with ornate carvings – possibly runes, Harry supposed. The goblin asked him if this was the correct item. Harry took it from the goblin and lifted the lid. Inside sat a smaller box made from shiny black stone. It shimmered ever so slightly and reminded Harry of a starry moonless night sky. Harry confirmed to the goblin that this was the correct item. Harry then thanked the goblin for his service and left the bank with his precious family heirloom, as well as the bag holding his bottle of Felix Felicis.

Harry had two more stops to make before returning home. As he left Gringotts bank, he headed towards Sugarplum's Sweets Shop to get Ginny some of her favorite candy. Afterwards, he would visit his final destination: the florist in Diagon Alley that sold some of the most beautiful and exotic mystical plants that Harry had ever seen. Here he would buy Ginny an enormous bouquet of her favorite flowers, which were rather more mundane than some of the plants this shop carried. It was all right though, Harry preferred shopping here over a Muggle flower shop. And Harry was confident that Ginny would enjoy these traditional Valentine’s Day gifts and that his vial of liquid luck would ensure that she would also appreciate the very special item he retrieved from his Gringotts vault. Yes, Harry Potter felt certain that tomorrow night would be a perfect evening, one that neither of them would forget.

* * *

It was nearly dusk as Harry entered the hallway of number 12 Grimmauld Place, carrying his many packages from his day out in Diagon Alley. He was careful not to bend or mangle his bouquet of flowers as he closed the door behind him and made his way down the narrow hallway. There was no longer any terrible wailing from the portrait of Sirius Black’s mother as wizards of less than pure-blood ancestry entered the house.No one was ever able to remove the portrait, due to its Permanent Sticking Charm, but not long after Harry took up residence in the house Hermione had discovered a variation of the Silencing Charm that worked on portraits. This charm was not permanent though, and Harry had to reapply it every fortnight. However, in gratitude for his continued service, Harry allowed the house-elf Kreacher one day a month between castings to spend talking with the portrait of his former mistress.

Harry made his way up the staircase towards his bedroom on the second floor, the very same room he and Ron had shared the summer they stayed there when the house was still headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It no longer contained the portrait of former Hogwarts headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black, however, because Harry had moved it to the drawing room a few months after moving in. Phineas had the annoying habit of talking to Harry late at night, keeping him awake, and he grew tired of it quickly.

Grimmauld Place, much like the Leaky Cauldron, was very different than it had been in Harry’s days at Hogwarts. He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny spent a great deal of time further cleaning and repairing the house when Harry moved in, much to the dismay of Kreacher, who hated to see any of the treasured belongings of the Black family removed or relocated. But Kreacher had come to respect Harry as his true master and obeyed Harry’s order to not complain incessantly about the matter. His friends had been a little surprised at Harry when he made the decision to move in. Harry could see why, but at the same time, he questioned them where they thought he was going to stay now that he was of age. After all, he could not, and would not, remain with the Dursleys. The house was no longer needed by the Order of the Phoenix after Voldemort’s downfall, and Harry felt that keeping the house would, in some small way, honor the memory of Sirius. Harry had long ago made peace with himself over the death of his godfather and was able to live in the house without it bringing about painful memories. He had even come to appreciate having Kreacher around, and Harry was sure to treat the elf with far more kindness and respect than had been paid him by Sirius.

Harry entered his bedroom and carefully placed the bag containing the Felix Felicis potion and the small wooden box from Gringotts down on his writing desk. He still held his box of chocolates and Ginny’s flowers and considered them a moment.

“Kreacher. Come here please,” Harry spoke aloud and with a loud crack the house-elf Kreacher Apparated in front of him.

“Master has returned from his errands. Kreacher is pleased to see Master,” the house-elf croaked. Kreacher still wore a tattered old pillowcase instead of clothing, but this one was not quite as old and dirty as the one he wore when Harry first knew him. Harry insisted that the elf wear proper clothes, partially at the urging of Hermione, and that Kreacher stop referring to him as ‘master’. Kreacher flatly refused the former, but was improving upon the latter.

“Kreacher, I’ve told you before,” Harry said in a somewhat irritated tone, “don’t call me master. Call me Harry, or Harry Potter, or Mr. Potter at the very least.”

“Forgive Kreacher, Mast-… Mister Potter. Kreacher is still not accustomed to this way of addressing his superiors,” Kreacher responded humbly, bowing ever so slightly.

“And that’s another thing,” said Harry, “I’m not your superior. I’m just your…well, I’m just the wizard you help care for. I’m more like your employer, I suppose. Except you, um, work for free. But I’ve tried to give you payment, Hermione insists I do.”

“Kreacher has no use for money, Mr. Potter. A home and a family to serve is all Kreacher requires, and you have provided Kreacher with just that. Nothing else is required.”

“Well, anyway, Kreacher, could you do something for me, please,” Harry said with the realization that he would probably never change Kreacher’s ways entirely and that this was the best he could hope for. “Could you take these flowers down to the kitchen and put them in a vase of water.”

Harry handed Kreacher the bouquet and the box of chocolates. “Oh, and put these next to them. They’re both for Ginny.”

“Gifts for the young Weasley woman. Kreacher is happy to assist Mister Potter with this task,” said Kreacher as he took the items from Harry. With another loud crack, Kreacher Disapparated and left Harry alone in his room.

Harry carefully removed the vial of Felix Felicis from its bag and placed it in a wire holder on his desk. He then picked up the small wooden box and opened it. He took out the smaller black box and put the wooden one aside. Harry sat down on his bed and held the shiny black box, running his thumb over its smooth surface. A smile crossed his lips as his thoughts turned to Ginny. He put the small black box back on his desk, a foot or so away from the Felix Felicis, on top of some spare strips of parchment. He lay down upon the bed and stared up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts of the girl he loved.

 _Tomorrow night,_ Harry thought to himself, _is going to be the best night of my life._

The joy Harry felt at this moment was enough to conjure a Patronus so powerful, it could defeat all the Dementors in Britain at once.

* * *

The following day – Valentine’s Day – arrived quicker, it seemed to Harry, than it ought to have. The day he had been planning for more than six months was finally here. As he rose that morning, he felt nervous and anxious, and swore that there truly were live butterflies fluttering about inside his stomach.

 _Ron was right,_ he thought. He had faced great dangers and done great deeds, and none of them made him feel as scared as he did today. He felt foolish, but then considered that might be the appropriate way to feel just now.

Harry ate the breakfast Kreacher prepared for him quickly and spent the rest of the morning pacing back and forth in nearly every room of the house. He was contemplating how tonight would go, telling himself he had no reason to be this nervous or dwell on it this much. He had the Felix Felicis potion and it guaranteed that this evening would be perfect and everything would go just as he hoped. That is, of course, if the potion had been brewed properly.

 _But what if it hadn’t?_ Harry thought to himself, dread suddenly closing in on him. _What if they hadn’t made it right? What if everything goes horribly wrong?_

He did not know exactly what the results of a mis-brewed liquid luck potion would be; he only knew that the results could be disastrous. The butterflies in his stomach turned into twisting knots. But the longer Harry considered this notion, the less likely it seemed to him.

 _The apothecary knew what he was doing,_ he told himself. He was an excellent potion master. He would never sell anyone, especially someone as important as Harry Potter, a defective luck potion.

Harry tried to relax himself and thought again of only how well this night would go. He thought of how much Ginny would appreciate everything he had planned and how beautiful she would look. He looked over at the old grandfather clock. It was already past three in the afternoon. He had wasted the day away lost in his thoughts and worries. Ginny would be arriving in an hour or so. She was coming over there directly from her Quidditch practice with the Holyhead Harpies to clean up and get ready for the night’s festivities. Ginny, of course, was not aware of what Harry had been planning. She only knew they were going out for a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant, as so many couples do on Valentine’s Day. There was no way she could suspect what Harry’s true intent for tonight was, the thing that gave him so much fear and anxiety. Unless she had secretly learned Legilimency in her spare time, but Harry seriously doubted that this was the case. His thoughts trailed off as he dashed up to his room to get ready.

A short while later, as Harry got out his finest dress robes, preparing to get ready for his night out, Kreacher entered his room. “Mr. Potter,” Kreacher spoke in his croaky whisper, “Miss Weasley has arrived outside and is approaching the house. Kreacher thought you might like to know.”

“Err, thank you, Kreacher,” replied Harry. “Please go down and let her in. I’ll be there shortly.”

Kreacher made a small bow and walked out of the room. Harry finished laying out his garments and followed a moment later. He hurried down the stairs as he heard the front door creak open and Kreacher welcoming Ginny into the house. When Harry reached the landing, his heart sank a bit. He had known Ginny to be a bit of mess after Quidditch practice, but he had not seen her like this since their days on the Gryffindor team. She was absolutely filthy, covered nearly head to toe in mud and grime. Her hair was a tangled mess of red, brown and black. She looked exhausted, yet surprisingly happy.

“Err, hey there,” Harry said as he approached her. “What happened to you? I thought the weather was suppose to be fair today?”

“Hi, Harry,” she replied with a smile. “What? This? Oh, one of the reserve beaters who’s been benched all season thought it would be a right laugh to conjure a monsoon during practice. It was worse than that match in your third year against Hufflepuff. Couldn’t see a blasted thing. Ended up crashing into Valmai Morgan and we both skidded into the mud. Good practice though, otherwise.” Ginny laughed a little and gave her broom to Kreacher. The elf carried it down the hallway and out of sight.

Harry stared at her for a moment and then smiled. Even caked in dirt and mud, Ginny was still lovely. Her bright brown eyes still glistened beneath the stray strands of tangled, dirty hair and Harry gazed into them for a long moment. His heart rose once more, as he realized that Ginny’s spirits, and thus their evening, had not been ruined by her chaotic Quidditch practice.

“Harry?” he heard Ginny say as he snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, Ginny,” Harry replied apologetically, “kind of zoned out there for a second.”

“It’s alright,” she said, “but I really need to clean up. I’m going to head up to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. I had my clothes for tonight sent over already. They should be in my old room.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” said Harry, “I’ve got to finish getting ready myself. The Portkey to the restaurant is in the kitchen, along with, um, your gifts for tonight. The Portkey becomes active at seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be ready by then, I promise,” Ginny assured him. She gave him a light peck on the cheek, leaving a small bit of mud behind, before climbing the stairs and heading to the bathroom. Harry stood there, watching her go up, and slowly lifted his hand to the spot where she had kissed him. He did not mind the mud, but reckoned he should clean it off anyway. He headed up the stairs himself, wiping the mud off with his shirtsleeve.

* * *

Harry stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, now wearing his dress robes, straightening his tie and attempting to tame the messy crop of hair that never seemed to stay neat and straight. He wondered if there was any kind of spell he could cast on his hair to get it to lay flat and was surprised that this had never occurred to him before. He would have to ask Hermione about it next time he saw her.

Harry looked himself over in the mirror, adjusting his robes a bit. He thought he looked rather dashing in his dress robes, even better than he had at the Yule Ball in his fourth year at Hogwarts. He remembered how pretty Ginny had looked on that occasion, although she had went to the ball with Neville, not Harry. His thoughts lingered on Ginny, picturing how she had looked over their years together at Hogwarts and beyond.

 _Ginny must have finished with her shower by now_ _and was surely nearly finished getting ready,_ Harry thought. He was right of course; she was downstairs getting dressed in the bedroom she had once shared with Hermione. Ginny still kept some of her things there for when she would occasionally stay over at Grimmauld Place.

Harry glanced at his watch. It was nearly seven, almost time for the Portkey to take them to the restaurant.

“ _It’s now or never_ ,” Harry said to himself softly.

He turned away from the mirror and headed over to his desk. Still sitting there in its wire holder was the small glass vial filled with the shimmering gold luck potion. He picked it up and stared at it, swishing the liquid to and fro ever so slightly. He was sure Hermione would chastise him for purchasing it and hoped that Ron would leave out that detail when he relayed the story of yesterday afternoon to her. She would have thought him silly and foolish, that the potion was unnecessary. Maybe she was right. Maybe Harry didn’t need the potion. But Harry wasn’t so sure and did not want to leave anything to chance. Tonight was too important.

Harry carefully removed the stopper from the vial. The moment was upon him. This potion would ensure that tonight would be a complete success for him. That everything would go as he had dreamed and that Ginny and he would have a wonderful, unforgettable night. He stood with his back to the door as he considered the potion. Why was he hesitating? He had ordered this potion months ago and spent many galleons to have it made.

“ _Just drink it_ ,” a voice inside his head whispered as he slowly brought the vial up to his lips.

“Well, how do I look?” he heard the voice of Ginny say behind him. It startled him and he almost spilled the vial. Still with his back to the door, careful so that Ginny could not see what he was doing, he put the stopper back into the vial and deftly set it back on his desk. He turned to face Ginny and his eyes went wide as his heart skipped a beat.

“Ta-da!” Ginny said as she gave a little twirl to show Harry the full extent of her appearance. “I clean up nice, don’t I?”

Harry was speechless. Ginny stood before him more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was stunning. She wore a long black dress that seemed to sparkle as if it were covered in a thousand tiny diamonds. Her previously mangled mess of hair was subtly curled and had a body and shine to it that Harry had not recalled seeing it have before. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time and yet as if he had known her for his entire life. The feeling of happiness inside him was overwhelming.

“You sure do,” Harry found the strength to voice after a short silence. He felt dumbstruck and a little awkward as he approached her. This feeling soon faded as she grasped his hand and he brought her into him and they embraced. They stood there for a few moments, Ginny’s head upon his shoulder, Harry’s arms around her waist. He held her and thought to himself how fortunate he was. The two of them had been through such turmoil over the years, faced adversity and tragedy that would have crushed the spirits of most witches and wizards. But they had survived, persevered and came out of it relatively unscathed, and together. He was never more certain than at that precise moment that Ginny was the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Ginny withdrew a bit from Harry and looked up at him. She stared into those almond shaped green eyes and smiled. “What were you thinking about, just now?” she asked him.

“Oh,” Harry replied, “just thinking that I’m the luckiest wizard in the world.” Harry and Ginny leaned in to each other again and lost themselves in a passionate kiss.

Ginny broke the kiss first. “Are you ready to go?” she asked as she separated herself from Harry. “It’s a few minutes until seven, the Portkey will be ready soon.”

“Yeah, just about,” he answered. “I’ve just got one quick little thing to do. You head downstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Ginny gave Harry another light kiss on the lips before heading out of the room. Harry turned back to his desk. He picked up the vial of Felix Felicis and looked at it closely once more.

“Hermione would have been right,” he said quietly to himself. “Save you for a rainy day, I reckon.”

He moved over to the foot of his bed where his old trunk sat and opened the lid. He lightly wrapped the vial of liquid luck in an old cloth and gingerly placed it amongst the contents of his trunk, closing the lid once more. He straightened up and returned to his desk where the small black box still sat flickering like a shimmery star-filled sky. He picked it up and opened its hinged lid. Inside was the diamond engagement ring that had once belonged to his mother and had been kept safe these many years deep inside his family vault at Gringotts.

“I already have all the luck I need,” Harry said aloud.

He closed the box’s lid and put it inside the pocket of his dress robes. He turned and left his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He hurried downstairs to the kitchen where Ginny was admiring her bouquet of flowers. She inhaled their aroma and smiled.

“Lilies,” she said softly. “My favorite.”

“I know,” said Harry as he kissed her on the cheek. “It’s one of the many things that I love about you.” With this Ginny set her flowers back into their vase on the table and hugged Harry tightly.

“Come on,” Harry said as he broke the embrace but took Ginny’s hand in his, “it’s time to be going.” A crystal punchbowl sat upon the table near the vase with Ginny’s flowers in it. Holding hands, the loving couple grasped it with their free hands and vanished into the night.


End file.
